


Fricassée

by fakevermeer



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Graphic Description of Corpses, Implied Cannibalism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 08:45:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakevermeer/pseuds/fakevermeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crime of passion, or more like the parody of one, leaves Will shaken. Hannibal invites him to stay for dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cutting

**Author's Note:**

> Fricassee or fricassée /ˈfrɪkəsiː/[1] is a method of cooking meat in which the meat is cut up, sautéed, and braised, and served with its sauce, traditionally a white sauce.

Every time he was there, Will felt welcome at Hannibal's place. Well, maybe welcome wasn't the right word - it was more a sense of being wanted. Hannibal's house was the eye of rational calm in Will's disgustingly overwhelming storm of a life. Usually he enjoyed the quiet of his own Wolf Trap gablefront, but lately he was unable to keep that creeping sense of elapsed danger out of his own door. Sometimes it felt like his house was the most gruesome crime scene of them all. 

Will's house was a house of raw fear and a peculiar kind of lust. Hannibal's house was a house of unfamiliar delicacies and sophistication. It kept Will on edge in a completely different way. He wasn't sure if he liked it, but it definitely attracted him.

As did the way Hannibal was currently cutting up a liver. Will had burst into Hannibal's appartment right as the doctor was preparing a meal. Hannibal responded to Will's rambling by telling him to stay for dinner, and before Will had consciously made the decision, his mouth had already said yes. So there he was, watching Hannibal's knife slice through the delicate meat with a precision and determination that fascinated Will. He stared at Hannibal's hands so intently it was almost like he was cutting up the meat himself.

'So Will, tell me about the crime scene.'

Hannibal's voice, the peculiar accent almost familiar to Will's ears, pulled him out of his trance. He rubbed his face with a hand that was still shaking slightly.

'Two victims. They were put in a... compromising position. They were both missing several organs.'

The sound of Hannibal's knife hitting the cutting board seemed to get louder and louder, or maybe that was just Will's senses overheating. He fought the urge to put his fingers in his ears, flinching every time the knife came down on the liver to slice off another piece. 

'Jack thinks,' Will continued, clearing his throat and closing his eyes, as if shutting off one sense would calm another. Of course, things worked out quite the other way. They always did. 'Jack thinks it's the Ripper.' 

Just as Will thought he'd reached breaking point, Hannibal had finished cutting up the meat. He silently put the knife away and quickly washed his hands before he started on the vegetables, the sound of which was much more agreeable to Will's ears. He breathed out slowly.

'How did you feel when you looked at the bodies?'

Will hesitated.

'Horrified. Uh. Afraid. Definitely afraid.'

'Tell me about your fear.'

Will snorted softly, almost looking Hannibal in the eye. He put his shaking hands in his pockets.

'Where do you want me to start?'

Hannibal chuckled softly. 'Do you know what I'm preparing?'

'Not a clue.'

'It's a dish called fricassée. An elegant stew. First, the meat is heated quickly, where one has to be careful not to burn it. Then, as one adds the white sauce and the vegetables, the meat is braised slowly. It's a fascinating process.'

Will nodded, his mind back on the two victims he'd seen today. _Cut up. Heated. Left to simmer until someone found them._ He shivered involuntarily, remembering how he had assumed the killer's position, how he had felt watching them. He had never felt like that before at a crime scene. Thinking back on it, a burning, blinding shame filled him. This is ridiculous, he told himself, these aren't even my own emotions. He cleared his throat again.

'At the crime scene,' he said softly, 'I didn't just feel afraid.'

From the corner of his eye, he saw Hannibal look up from his cutting board. For a second, he hesitated, unsure if telling Hannibal this was wise. Then again, the man was a psychiatrist. It wasn't like he didn't hear a thousand crazier things on any given day.

'What did you feel, Will?' Hannibal urged him on, still refraining from cutting the vegetables, his full attention on Will.

'Arousal.'

The kitchen was silent for a few seconds, before Hannibal started to chop again. 'It seems to me that your killer has some very interesting sexual preferences.'

Will snorted. 'You could say that.' He shifted in his seat a little, remembering very clearly how he had felt only hours ago, staring at the two victims, the mixture of arousal and horror flooding his mind once more. It was hard to shake this feeling off, and even as he sat there he felt the blood rush down again. 

Disgusted with both the killer and himself, Will got up from his chair and walked around the kitchen, trying to distract himself. He watched as Hannibal tossed the cut up liver in a pan with a splash of oil, turning up the heat and sautéing the pieces quickly and expertly.

'It smells delicious.'

Hannibal smiled, not taking his eyes off the pan. 'Yes. Yes, it does.'


	2. Sautéing

It was hot in Hannibal's dining room. Or maybe that was just Will. Hannibal didn't seem to feel the need to get out of his woollen jacket, while Will was pretty sure he'd still be sweating even if he was naked right now. He swallowed a piece of liver and tried to think of things that didn't involve either dead or naked bodies. It was surprisingly difficult.

'This is very good,' he said, trying to distract himself. 'I'm usually not big on liver, but this, uh, this is good.' He tried to smile at Hannibal, hoping it didn't come out a grimace.

'Are you uncomfortable, Will?' Hannibal asked, quite out of the blue. Once again, Will was startled by Hannibal's direct manner of speaking. He'd gotten used to people being irrationally careful around him. Hannibal's disregard of these unspoken rules without upsetting Will was refreshing.

Will looked up apologetically, putting down his knife and fork. 'I'm sorry.'

'Don't be,' Hannibal said, before dabbing at the corners of his mouth with his handkerchief. 'Could I interest you in some more wine?'

'Please.' As Hannibal poured the wine, Will got up and started pacing the room, rubbing his face with both hands. 'I'm having a hard time getting those victims out of my head,' Will said from between his fingers. 'I have no idea why this one hit me as hard as it did.'

He lowered his hands and there was Hannibal, standing in front of him, handing him a glass of ruby red wine. Will took it with a soft 'thanks'.

'Maybe this was the final straw, and your mind is telling you that its had enough?' Hannibal suggested, leaning on the back of the chaise longue.

'No, that's not it,' Will murmured, pacing in front of Hannibal. He took a sip of the wine as he walked. 'It feels like the killer is trying to tell me something. Me, specifically.'

'The Chesapeake Ripper is communicating with you directly through his murders.'

Will stopped in front of Hannibal. 'You see, that's the thing - I don't think it's the Ripper.'

'Why?'

Will exhaled and started pacing again. 'It doesn't... It doesn't feel like the Ripper. The Ripper is... cold. Calculating. Surgical. This felt more like... It almost felt like a crime of passion. Or a parody of one.'

'But directed at you, rather than the killer's loved one.'

Will nodded at the carpet, still pacing. The feelings that were mingling in his mind were both his own and the killer's, melting into a big puddle, confusing and frustrating him. He could feel Hannibal's eyes on him as he paced, and downed his wine in one go. After putting the empty glass on the table, he removed his vest and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt. He was very much aware of the tightness of his jeans. 

He stopped pacing altogether, feeling how his breathing got quicker and his armpits wetter. In an attempt to calm himself down, Will closed his eyes, but he was back at the crime scene in an instant. 

_Two men. One of them on his back, his arms suspended above his head, tied with a crude but efficient rope. The other on all fours, held upright by an intricate system using the same ropes, tied to anchor points on the walls of the small bedroom. His mouth on the other victim's genitals in a vulgar attempt at conveying sensuality. His own reproductive organs, as well as his kidneys and the other man's liver, were missing._

As he was staring at the victims with his mind's eye, the overwhelming sensation that usually accompanied his nightmares made him unsteady on his feet.

A firm hand gripped his upper arm and guided him to the chaise longue. Without opening his eyes, Will sat down, on the verge of hyperventilation.

'Will.'

He could hear Hannibal's voice, but it sounded like he was miles away.

'Will.'

Hands on his arms, shaking him slightly. Will's eyes refused to let him out of the nightmarish world his mind was inhabiting.

'Wake up.'

The sound of Hannibal's voice was right inside his head, two hands had settled on the sides of his face, and Will's eyes snapped open. Hannibal was so close Will could see the speckled maroon that gave his eyes their peculiar shade of brown. Will panted. He felt sweat trickling down his forehead. He swallowed.

'Thank you, thank you,' Will sighed hoarsely, trying to bring down his pulse. Hannibal's hands were cool on his face. He was staring at him. Will felt like both of them were intruding.

'If there is anything I can do to take your mind off the events of today, you should let me know.' Hannibal's voice was steady as always, but something that Will could almost identify as a tenderness had crept into his words. 'Now.'

And Will knew it was okay to press his lips to Hannibal's then, leaning into the steadying hands, letting Hannibal take it all, everything at once.


	3. Braising

Hannibal's bedroom was a sparsely decorated high-walled space, its only occupants a vast platform bed and a sleek wardrobe. And although it didn't seem to say much about the man who slept there, upon entering the room Will's sense of intrusion intensified. Before the feeling could linger, his mind was overcome by a crippling lust. It came at him from both himself and Hannibal, who closed the door and stepped into the room. A rustling sound told Will Hannibal was taking off his woollen jacket. Will could hear Hannibal breathing behind him.

'Are you afraid, Will?'

Will exhaled. 'No.'

Cool hands on his arms, sliding upward. They rested at his neck for a split second before sliding down again, the strong fingers coaxing Will into turning around to face Hannibal. They stared at each other for a dragging moment.

Will gasped as Hannibal surged forward without warning. His opened mouth collided with Hannibal's with a force that bordered on painful. Will stood there for a moment, overcome with a thousand different sensations, but found that tapping into Hannibal's state of mind was surprisingly easy - quickly and effortlessly his mind adapted to Hannibal's and his body followed.

He had never seen Hannibal lose control, not even in the face of imminent danger. In fact, Hannibal had the ability to steel and distance himself whenever a situation arose that would cause any other man to resort to mindless panic. In this moment, even if he seemed reasonably collected, Will picked up the subtleties that made him realise Hannibal hadn't been this close to coming undone for a long time, if ever. The unadulterated need that radiated off of him got Will so desperate he thought he wouldn't be able to take it for much longer.

'Slow down,' he meant to say, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a low-pitched sigh. Hannibal seemed to be as much in tune with him as he was with Hannibal, though, because he backed off immediately.

'What is the matter, Will?' Hannibal asked as he carefully straightened his waistcoat. He was still standing very much in Will's personal space. Will's eyelids fluttered as he tried to maintain eye contact.

'I need, uh, I need to breathe. For a moment.' Will's voice threatened to fail him.

'That request is reasonable enough,' Hannibal said, and a small smile stretched his lips across his teeth. Will found himself wanting to bite those lips. Instead, he took a step back and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Hannibal watched him for a few seconds while Will closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing once again. He tentatively tested the water within himself but found that Hannibal quite successfully managed to fill his entire head with _Hannibal_ \- Hannibal naked, Hannibal on him, Hannibal's hands touching him, the strong fingers doing things that made him moan just thinking about them.

He opened his eyes. 

He looked straight at Hannibal. 

And Hannibal was at him before he could say anything.

Will leaned backwards and laid down on his back as Hannibal, strangely graceful, climbed on top of him. With his knees pressing against the outsides of Will's thighs, Hannibal brought his hips down on Will's. The bedroom was definitely cooler than the kitchen had been, and yet Will felt like he could explode with heat any second. Slowly but surely the notion that he had to get out of his clothes wormed its way into his head.

As he tried to unbutton his shirt, Hannibal's strong hands took over. Will looked up at him, only to have his lips captured by Hannibal's. He kissed him strongly, deeply, hungrily, as he opened Will's shirt button for button, exposing Will's pale torso. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his ribs a clear outline against his skin.

Hannibal's mouth left Will's, taking its time at Will's neck before carefully kissing and biting its way down, over his breastbone, his bellybutton, the slight swell of his stomach.

'You should eat more,' Hannibal murmured at Will's skin, before biting down on a jutting hipbone. Will groaned softly.

'You should talk less,' he managed to get out before Hannibal started to unbutton Will's jeans. He felt Hannibal chuckle rather than heard it.

Hannibal, still fully clothed, pulled down Will's jeans and underwear simultaneously, letting them slide to the floor without paying any more attention to them. Will observed with heavy-lidded, lust-blown eyes, his hands clutching at the impeccable sheets, as Hannibal lowered his mouth onto Will's swollen cock. For a few seconds, he didn't do anything, like he was getting used to the feeling, the smell, the taste of him. 

Then, without warning, he sucked.

Will gasped loudly and threw his head back onto the bed, groaning as Hannibal's tongue moved from the head of his cock down the shaft, all the way to his balls, lingering there for a second. Hannibal moved back up and repeated the same movement, except this time his teeth grazed a vein. Will's breath hitched in the back of his throat, his fingers grasping at the sheets with such vigour they turned white.

Hannibal set a pace that drove Will insane - he got closer, but he couldn't get close enough, and Hannibal knew it. As he attempted to look down at Hannibal, Will could feel the intense pleasure the man got out of this, this taking Will to the edge step by tiny step, trying to get him there so they could look over the edge together without falling off. 

But Will wanted to fall. He knew the feeling and he lived for it, however terrifying it might be. Falling was his specialty.

'Please, please,' he breathed, and Hannibal complied - he picked up the pace, and he didn't just take Will straight to the edge, but he pushed him over it, violently, mercilessly, without any chance of going back.

As Will arched up in pleasure, release setting his nerve endings on fire and freezing them simultaneously, he looked down at Hannibal and he saw them again. _Two men. One of them on his back, his arms suspended above his head, tied with a crude but efficient rope. The other on all fours, held upright by an intricate system using the same ropes, tied to anchor points on the walls of the small bedroom._ Will groaned, the waves of pleasure mingling with a different sensation he couldn't yet identify. _His mouth on the other victim's genitals in a vulgar attempt at conveying sensuality. His own reproductive organs, as well as his kidneys and the other man's liver, were missing._

Will panted hopelessly as Hannibal rolled over, next to him, breathing out evenly.

Minutes passed in silence. Hannibal's long index finger was drawing lines on Will's naked abdomen. Will shivered involuntarily.

_Cut up. Heated. Left to simmer._

Hannibal got up from the bed in one smooth movement. 'Can I offer you some dessert?' he asked, stretching his limbs languidly before straightening his waistcoat once again. 'I made chocolate blood pudding.'

As Will softly accepted, he realised he felt at home.

He was afraid.


End file.
